Oliver and Company: Scarface
Chapter 3: Opening Up
I used to pride myself that no human will ever catch me. I was wrong. All it took was a steel trap, and my hunger to change my life forever. I never had a chance to have kittens. My left eye is more milky than my right. I am blind in my left eye. My moon scar is there. It'll always be there. The next day, I saw the light shine in the old stained glass
"You. Up. Now," I ordered to him,
"Ouch...," he groaned,
Oliver rolled off me, and looked up at me not liking how I woke him up. Like I really cared. I looked back at him, and walked ahead. The kitten followed me out of the old station. Last night, I was thinking to myself. I got so many 'what-ifs' in my head now. I feel like the kitten's getting to me. I just need to get the puffball home, and get him out of my fur
"C'mon, we gotta ways to go,"
I can't say that I hate humans. I really don't even after what they did to me. In fact, I would say they saved me a lot of trouble. There are lots of momma cats out here, and if there's one thing they don't need it's more kittens to feed. When you get a helping hand, you end up like Ollie. When you don't, you end up like me. Two different sides to a coin.
"What do you see in humans?" he asked,
I looked back at him, and looked forward as we were heading toward the Brooklyn Bridge, "Indifference," I replied, Oliver looked confused, class is in session, "when you walk a mile in my paws, you see that there's no difference between humans and cats, first you get kittens like you, brought up and raised in a home and family, and then those like me"
"Didn't you have a mom or kittens?"
"I never knew my momma, I never knew my family, and I never cared to," I replied sternly, I don't know where she is, or where any of the litter I was born with are now. Here, you're on your own. Ferals like me often live in what humans call 'colonies'. There's one on Flatbush Avenue, one on 8th Avenue, one in Prospect Park, and one in Brighton Beach
"You went out of your way to save me from Rex, and you're going out of your way to help me, I know there's good in you," said Oliver, we were not even halfway up the bridge when I stopped, and looked back at him. My fur blew in the wind of cars racing by with people going off to work as are the subway trains taking people in and out of the borough
"As I told you, there's no saving me,"
"Yes, there is," said the little orange puffball,
"Drop it, Ollie," I said sternly to the kitten,
Oliver lightly shook his head no, "If I can find the good in you, then you can find it in yourself, you're not heartless, Scarface," I am not quick to admit it, or tell him things. Still, that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me ever in my life. I mean it. His gold name tag jingled behind me as he was following me. At least I know Ollie's still behind me.
"Heh, you're a peppy little puffball,"
"Yeah, I get that a lot," he smirked to me,
"I bet you do," I replied indifferently,
I don't know if it was back then when I confronted Rex and his alleycats or now, but ever since then I feel these changes happening to me. At first I'd pushed them aside or just slept them off, but every time I look at Oliver, that little puffball, I feel them coming back. I can't shake them off. I can't put a claw on it, but all I know is it feels fuzzy and warm
I kept going. Cities change and grow overtime, but the city culture never dies. There it was, Manhattan. I stopped for a moment halfway across the bridge for the little puffball to rest. My legs and paws were starting to ache. When we got into the borough, we were spotted by a human whom opened a tin of wet food. Some ferals call humans 'ring-pullers'
"Do you know the way from here?" I asked,
We had got off the Brooklyn Bridge. The scents around me were the same and also different, and tied into them was a smell I knew all too well, a dog. My legs and aching paws were not easy to ignore. Oliver was beside me, and laid down to rest. I watched to make sure Ollie doesn't fall into the storm drain. A kitten falls in there, they ain't coming back
"I think so," Oliver said, looking up to me,
I could hear the unsureness in his response, "Perfect," I replied under my breath, why would he look up to me? I don't deserve it. He can only look up at me as I am the bigger cat. That doesn't mean anything. Part of me is telling me to go back, and that my job is done. He could find his way back from here, right? The other told me to watch his back.
You never know what can be around a street corner, or an alleyway. As Oliver was walking away, he looked back at me and I just looked away. I just let him leave on his way. Still, that nagging other side would not let it go, "Jeezus-crimity," I said muttering to myself, and decided to go and watch his back. Never know, Ollie just might get even more lost